Lost Under the Surface
by 4ever Zebby
Summary: Heartbreak. Deaths. Torture. Been there done it. Hell I've bought the frickin t-shirt. Wait what the fuck do I need a t-shirt for? Max- the assassin with a better hit-rate than Romanoff and Barton put together. Seeing his best friend die before his very eyes he is caught by Agents of SHIELD. What happens when Skye recognises him? What happens when the dead come back to haunt him?
1. Chapter 1

**NOTES:**

Hey guys, this is my first fanfiction and I am a major fan of Marvel's Agents of SHIELD (if you haven't seen Captain America 2 I think you should totally watch it, it's awesome!)

I'm more of a reader, not a writer so constructive criticism is welcome, also, I would really appreciate it if you guys could review and follow too.

Thanks and ENJOY :D

DISCLAIMER- I don't own Marvel's Agents of SHIELD (that would be awesome if I did but sadly I don't) but I do own Callum (Max) and Mason. As other characters are introduced later on in the story, I will add a reminder of who or what I do and do not own...

* * *

**Chapter One: Time Stood Still (Bring me the Horizon: Sleep walking)**

_My secrets are burning a hole through my heart and my bones catch a fever/ When it cuts you up this deep it's hard to find a way to breathe. Time stood still the way it did before/ It's like I'm sleepwalking/ Fell into another hole again/ It's like I'm sleepwalking. I'm at the edge of the world/ Where do I go from here? Do I disappear? Edge of the world- Should I sink or swim or simply disappear?_

* * *

The glock 26 fits snugly in my hands- as if it was made for me and me alone. Knowing the person who supplied it to me, it probably was. I hold it loosely by the handle in one hand and weigh it. Perfect balance.

I focus on the task ahead, clear my mind of any doubts. Yes, I promised myself I wouldn't kill again but too much has happened to the people I care about. Too many have gone missing. Too many have been hurt. Too many are... gone. I can't honour my own promise.

"Callie" I whisper, my voice hoarse with pain, my mind far away with memories- the first time I felt utter desperation and despair.

I shake my head to clear it. No time to dwell on the past. I'm a professional; I should be able to keep my feelings under wrap. Mentally pushing all my memories into a deep, dark corner of my mind, I lean against the tree I'm hiding behind and load my pistol. 10 bullets are all I need. 1 shot for each guard. I'm not worrying about the M16 Assault Rifle each guard carries- it's not like they'll have the chance to use their machine guns.

I steady my breathing and sprint from the edge of the forest where I had been hiding for the past hour- staking the place out, till I reach the van I saw arrive earlier. I mentally check my objectives:

Scout the area. CHECK

Confirm the number of hostiles in the vicinity. CHECK

Eliminate the enemy without the Clairvoyant finding out.

Enter the warehouse and get my partner out.

Looking around I realise it's now or never, my time-window is slowly disappearing. I attach a silencer onto the end of the gun to quieten the shots. I spring from behind the van and shoot at the two guards patrolling the perimeter. They drop. I run forward and take out three snipers. This is too easy. Nobody has even come out of the warehouse to investigate. Five down, five to go. As I get walk towards the entrance, my instinct screams at me to duck. I duck just in time as a bullet whizzes millimetres above my head.

I am suddenly dragged to the floor and am able to register a weight on my back before my head is grabbed from the back and smashed into the ground. Again and again. And again. Only, the third time I'm ready. I roll over and feel the guard underneath me. He lets go of my head and I spring up. He is fast but I'm the best. As his arm reaches for my neck my hand smashes into the base of his nose and from the satisfying crack that follows I know his nasal bone is fractured.

He screams in pain but I am already there: covering his mouth with my hands to stop him from making any sounds which could alert the others to my position. I snake my hands around his neck and twist hard. He falls to the floor but I catch him and lower him quietly- no need to make any more noise than necessary. Killing with my bare hands- without the aid of a gun- should make me feel different. Any emotion- even disgust or interest, maybe, is more welcome to the emotionless depth of my heart. As I stare at the man I realise I don't care. He is collateral damage. Damage I was trained to contain.

And then there were four... I jog to the doorway of the building and enter. Mysteriously, there is no actual door, I suppose they must have made someone stand guard there, much more effective than a plank of wood- their own human shield. And then it hits me- OH SHIT! If there's no guard standing I must have killed him. How long till they realise...?

I run in the building, no thought for self preservation or safety. I can't let them take him. I can't lose him. Not again. The simple rectangular building it looked like outside was a lie. Mazes of corridors and hallways lead off here and there- probably made to confuse their prisoners had they ever managed to escape. I stand confused at the end of a corridor; left or right? In a movie the hero would choose a random direction, wish for the best and accomplish everything. But this isn't a movie is it? And I'm not a hero.

As a stand, unsure, I hear a blood curdling scream. My feet respond instantly and before I know it, I am standing at a door. Inside is the source of the pain. And then I hear it...

"Please", he whispers, "I can't take it anymore, just stop"

I'd recognise that voice anywhere. I run into the room and am horrified at what I see but don't let that stop me from shooting the man responsible. He is standing over Mason- who is handcuffed to a chair- with a knife in his hand. A knife with fresh blood on. My brain registers Mason's torn shirt and the blood seeping from deep cuts in his chest.

Anger courses through my veins at the thought of what this bastard has done and is doing to my best friend. I pull the trigger and hold it, emptying the clip into his body. He is blown to the other side of the room on impact and I make sure he isn't going to get up. Ever again. I walk towards Mason, making sure to go slowly so as not to scare him.

"Hey, it's me man" I say, soothingly, "I got you, I'll get you outta here"

"Max?" he asks, surprised, "No, you can't be here. Max go. You have to GO!"

"Listen Mace, I'm not going anywhere without you dude, we had a deal remember? 'Till the end', we watch each other's backs, yeah?" I say, firmly. "Okay, I'm gonna go and see if I can find the keys for the handcuffs. You... urm, carry on doing your... thing. Just don't... go anywhere" I finish, lamely.

He laughs quietly. It's music to my ears.

"You're saying it like I've got places to go, people to see." He looks at me amused. I'm not stupid, I can tell he is trying to keep his own mind off his injuries but I file that away for later. The task at hand is to... Suddenly, he gasps.

"Behind you!"

A shot is fired from behind me and red splatters over Mason. I stare at him. I whirl around and aim the gun but suddenly it flies from my hand. Surprise flickers across my face and I mentally curse myself. There were three more Hydra agents. How could I forget them? They fan out in front of me, and attack from all sides. Parrying and deflecting their blows, I realise that none of them have guns. Why? I don't dwell on that fact for too long. More pressing matters are demanding my time right now. Like how the fuck do I kill them?

I look around and spot a tray of sharp instruments covered in blood. Mason's blood. I look back at the agents but am too late. A foot catches me in the face and I am thrown across the floor.

Kicks are delivered with brutal force to my whole body but I zone the pain out. An agent grabs me around my neck and throws me across the cell. That was his biggest mistake. My hand reaches for the tray and I pick up a deadly looking scalpel. I feel sick holding it knowing the last time it was used was on Mason. I spring from my position on the floor and throw the scalpel at the closes agent to me. It embeds himself in his eye and the man drops dead as I knew he would. I never miss.

The something bizarre happens. The other two agents back away from the dead body as though it carries a contagious disease. I realise everything a split second before it happens and throw myself over Mason- his chair tips back and both of use hit the floor.

BANG!

The corpse explodes and the two men who tried to escape but never quite made it are obliterated. Heat blisters my back and I feel a second of flames licking my clothes but then it's gone as though nothing happened. The only people in the cell are me and Mason. Nothing is left of the three guards.

I get up and pick Mason's chair up. The handcuffs have broken so the swing open to free his chaffed and infected wrists. I pick him off the chair and lower him to the floor.

That's when Mason starts vomiting blood...


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTES:**

Hey guys and thanks for the reads and follows. Hopefully this next chapter will convince you all to review as well. I might as well add now that I totally ship SkyWard and FitzSimmons. Though Agent Triplett is definitly going to make an appearance and flirt with Simmons. Hey a girl can have two guys chasing after her. I live in the UK, so the episode Turn Turn Turn was aired last night. I cried. How could Ward be evil? But anyway, away from all that awkwardness, I still hope that Grant is part of a bigger plot and that one day he will go back home- to Skye's arms. *sobs dramatically*

Okay seriously though guys, I hope you all read, review, favourite and follow: It would mean a lot to me. I'm in a bit of a internal crisis right now, I wanted to upload chapters 2 and 3 today but I didn't know if people actually wanted to read it.

Constructive critism is welcome :D

DISCLAIMER- I don't own Marvel's Agents of SHIELD (that would be awesome if I did but sadly I don't) but I do own Callum (Max) and Mason. As other characters are introduced later on in the story, I will add a reminder of who or what I do and do not own...

Enjoy...

* * *

**Chapter Two: I walk Alone (Green Day: Boulevard of Broken Dreams)**

"_I'm walking down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind/ On the border line of the edge and where I walk alone. Read between the lines what's fucked up and everything's alright/ Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive and I walk alone."_

* * *

I can hear screaming. Someone repeating the same word again and again: NO! It takes me a while to realise it's me. Kneeling over Mason and holding his face in my hands, I'm emptying my lungs in hope that it's enough. It's not. I can see from the way his chest refuses to rise steadily. By the way his face is draining of colour. His soul is slipping away and there is nothing I can do to help him. My best friend. The only person I have been able to trust during my worst times.

His breath hitches as pain moves from the gunshot in his abdomen to his chest and I don't miss the sharp intake of breath. _Fuck_, I think, _I'm not trained with this._ The irony doesn't go amiss either, Karma's come knocking and Mason has had to pay for my immorality._ I can take life without thinking twice about it but I can do nothing to save a life._

I shake his shoulders lightly. "Ace." He doesn't respond. I try again, "Ace please. Shit. Oh God. I've gotta move you", his blood stains my hands and my soul, "I gotta stop the bleeding man."

I stand over him and hope he realises what I intend to do, taking my time to hook my arms under his arms and pull him up. Groaning loudly from the pain yet still conscious, Mason leans against me as I lead him to the nearest wall. After propping him against the wall I realise the real extent of his injuries. There is blood pouring from the bullet hole that ripped his stomach apart, blood trickling form his mouth and forehead, burns and gashes litter his face and body and I'm not even counting the lacerations to his chest from his most recent torture session. Judging by the wince he so blatantly tries to hide as I reach to unbutton his shirt, I can easily bet a couple of broken ribs belong in that seemingly endless collection of damage that promises his demise tonight.

"Wound?" he manages to choke out.

"shhhhh". I reach for the last button on his shirt and open it to reveal the one thing I was hoping to avoid: a hole in his lower body. I take my shirt off, crumple it and hold it against his stomach. I try not to put too much pressure on it but the amount of blood he's losing is seriously freaking me out.

"Did you just say wound?" He glares at me and I sigh. Even half dead, my buddy Mason is as impossible as ever.

"Listen bro. I've come too far, pissed too many people off to let you off the hook now. Hang in there."

"Do you really think I'm gonna let you change the subject?" he smirks at me, shifts his weight over to his right side and winces, "Give me a full damage report." When I hesitate, he rolls his eyes. "Come on man, don't make me say pretty please"

I take a deep breath and say, "You lost a lot of blood, too much to be sure, but I think you might make it" I lie.

He stares into my eyes and I feel naked in front of him, as though he is looking into my soul.

"Don't lie to me", he croaks, blood dribbling out of his mouth, "But don't say it either. I don't want to hear it. Just..." He hesitates, the pain worsening. "Just look after Venice, she's all I've got left. Make sure you tell her..." He gasps, his back arches and his breath comes out in shudders. His end is near. "Please, I can't leave her like this, make sure she knows her dad loved her" He grabs my hand, "Max, promise me you'll tell her that she was my everything... Please..." He pleads.

With a steady voice I tell him, "I promise, you forget her weird ass daddy made me her godfather", I try a smile but it comes out wrong, fake. "I promise you that I will look after her and spoil her so bad she will never want anything and not have it."

He chuckles, "I'm almost scared about leaving my baby girl with you now, you're not exactly the best of role models".

Amused, I reply: "I learnt from the best", giving him a _very_ pointed look.

Mason chooses to ignore me and instead leans against the wall with his eyes closed. He starts to hum a tune and it takes me a while to realise it's 'Mad World' by Gary Jules...

_All around me are familiar faces/ Worn out places, worn out faces/ Bright and early for the daily races/ Going nowhere, going nowhere. _

_Their tears are filling up their glasses/ No expression, no expression/ Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow/ Now tomorrow, no tomorrow. _

_I find it kind of funny/ I find it kind of sad/ The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had/ I find it hard to tell you/ I find it hard to take/ When people run in circles is a very, very/ Mad world, mad world. _

_Children waiting for the day they feel good/ Happy birthday, happy birthday/ Made to feel the way that every child should/ Sit and listen, sit and listen._

_Went to school and I was very nervous/ No one knew me, no one knew me/ Hello teacher tell me, what's my lesson? Look right through me, look right through me._

_I find it kind of funny/ I find it kind of sad/ The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had/ I find it hard to tell you/ I find it hard to take/ When people run in circles is a very, very/ Mad world, mad world. _

Tears fall down his face as he opens his eyes and looks at me. Without realising, I have also started to cry.

"Don't get caught up in all this shit. We got out, me and you; remember that. Stay out."

With a final breath, he smiles and closes his eyes...


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTES:**

Okay, so I don't know when I'm going to update next as I have exams coming up in a week. To apologize, I wrote an extra long chapter...

Constructive critism is welcome :D

DISCLAIMER\- I don't own Marvel's Agents of SHIELD (that would be awesome if I did but sadly I don't) but I do own Callum (Max), Jay, Russell and Mason. As other characters are introduced later on in the story, I will add a reminder of who or what I do and do not own...

Enjoy... (and please review!)

* * *

**Chapter Three: The Pain Inside (Blood on the Dancefloor: I Hope You Choke)**

_This world is just so fucked up, my life is just so messed up!/ Nothing makes sense in a world that is so dead. The bleeding in my heart are from these stitches that are falling apart/ You make me sick from all this shit/ How could you ever do this? I gave you my heart and you just ripped it apart/ I tasted your blood and you just wasted my love. You threw it away/ It was so fragile and fray. Silver &amp; Gray/ Like judgement day. I hope you choke/ I hope you know the pain inside just multiplies. I lost my grip/ I'm about to slit. Love is cruel, remember this. Protect yourself from the fighting fists/ Covered wrists/ So deep it fits. It's killing me, it's tearing me. I can't forget/ I can't regret._

* * *

I let myself go for the first time in 4 years. I sob shamelessly, draped over his dead body. Only once before have I felt such despair, hopelessness and anger. Guilt threatens to destroy me as the 'what if's' start to creep in: what if I had gotten here earlier? What if I had killed _all _the guards and done my job properly? What if? What if? What if...?

Feeling the bile rise up my throat, I jerk away from Mason's corpse. Just in time. I vomit on the floor. The beginnings of a headache are starting to form- a sign that I need to stop over- stressing myself. _Keep it together._ I have to stop myself from falling apart, for the sake of his daughter, and for my own sake. But at this moment in time I can't look away from the carcass in front of me. Even dead: the gentle smile sitting on his lips, the way his arms are wrapped around his waist. I know that had his eyes been open, there would be the unmistakeable twinkle of sarcasm- his way of calling somebody an idiot without opening his mouth.

Suppressing the sobs that threaten to break lose doesn't work and as I sit there, broken, I sob my heart out as I remember all the good moments we shared, all the bad times we had each others' backs- never again. Fury bubbles deep inside me as I think about what I'm going to do when I find the people responsible. Torture... and then a _very_ slow death.

I gather all the rage within and channel it. An ear-splitting scream of anguish and loss follows. By the time it's finished, my voice is hoarse and my throat sore.

The sound of footsteps wakes me up from my slumber. I didn't even realise I was asleep. No, not asleep, more like a trance. My body was in a daze to allow my brain to catch up with the events of today, to give my body a chance to rest without compromising my position or state.

Without pondering too much on who is outside- I can take anyone one- I gaze upon the body of my fallen comrade once again, for the very last time. I'm not stupid; I know I can't take the body with me. Oh what I'd give to be able to bury him, but that's a luxury I'm afraid I can't afford. My life or his body is the choice I'm struck with. I'm alive and he's dead. He is past the point of salvation, I am not. It's an unwritten code in our- my line of work: the dead get left behind, the living move forward. '_Alvos aptissimum'_\- Survival of the fittest.

I lean forward and kiss his forehead. "This is goodbye. I love you, you were just like a brother to me." I sigh, "I hope that you're reunited with her again somewhere. Rest in peace, mejor amigo".

I rise and realise something's wrong. I heard footsteps about 10 minutes ago. Why haven't they come in yet? Moving towards the door of the torture chamber, I vaguely remember shutting the door earlier when I was moving Mason to rest against a wall. The slight smell of tar hits my nostrils, it takes me a fraction of a second to realise where it's coming from and dive out of the way as the door is blasted open with C4.

Sprawled on the floor with my hands over my head, I don't see the flash-bang grenade rolling towards me until it explodes. I press my hands to my ears, nearly crushing my skull but I don't care- anything to stop the impossibly loud ringing. I can't hear anything. There are tears in my eyes from the noise. Everything slows down...

There's only one door to escape from; the same door my attackers are going to be using any second to enter the cell. My bones feel like they're made of lead and my muscles won't listen to my brain. I steady myself against the wall and stand groggily, the ringing hasn't quite stopped yet but I still get my bearings. I don't have a gun. I can't risk crossing the room to get a knife. I'll have to take my chances...

Cautiously, I walk towards the, well _ex_-door, the hole in the wall where the door was. Poor door, I think. I cock my head to the side but don't hear anything from outside. Are they still there? I hear someone loading a clip into a gun and don't wait another second. Sprinting, I burst out of the torture chamber and zip past two people in black ops gear. They stand in shock for a couple of seconds before speeding after me. They are good.

There are two: a man, probably late 20's, early 30's and a woman who seems to be in her late 30's, maybe early 40's. From the glance I caught of their faces I can only recall that one was tall and the other was shorter.

I dart around a corner and run down an enormous hallway. When I get half way across, I spare a glance behind me. The woman is saying something, her hand on her ear. She is communicating with somebody. This is not good. How many more of them are there? The man is catching up fast and I turn around, abandoning my plans at studying him. There is another door coming up and I barge into it, the flimsy thing is blown off it's hinges. I carry on running until the corridor ends. Shit, it's a dead end. No it's not- there's a my-sort-of size window and I see the fire escape ladder. YES! The tide has finally turned my way.

I take a step forward but my sixth sense screams at me and I turn around and deliver a powerful round house kick at the exact moment the male agent lunges for me. He collapses with a yell. It's only too late I realise what he did. I hear a shout: "WARD!" This Ward is obviously well trained and informed extensively on my reputation. I can't waste time killing him if I don't want to be caught and now the other one-the female- knows my position. Stupid bastard. I resist the urge to kick him again in the ribs and dash into the window.

Yes, _into_. Glass smashes as I plunge downwards, but I've timed it perfectly. I twist in midair and grab the ladder with my hands. Legs splaying below me, I take the risk and let go. I can stand a broken leg but not capture, I can't afford to let them take me- whoever _they _happen to be. Luckily, I land on grass with a sore side and am up on my feet in seconds. I loop around the building so that I can reach the ladder near the left corner closest to me. I studied the plans of the warehouse's infrastructure before coming here, making sure I had the maximum amount of exits planned in the case of an emergency. Like... um, NOW!

As I reach for the ladder, a helicopter flies directly overhead and I nearly have a heart attack until I see the pilot. Russell to the rescue! Here was me thinking he'd bailed on me. Although, he _was_ supposed to pick me up in Venice tomorrow. So how did he know where to find me? Pushing that thought from my mind, I look up at him in the cockpit through the glass. He's miming something to me: Ace? I shake my head and he gets the hint, his eyes saddening slightly. He turns to speak to somebody with him on the plane and a comms unit is thrown at me. Russell motions to the roof of the warehouse and signals that he will provide sky cover for me.

I nod my head to show him I understand. Euphoria streams through me as adrenaline pumps in my veins. I'm going home! After picking up the object which provides the only link to someone I actually trust enough to call family, I climb up the ladder as fast as I can go, mind only on the task at hand- no thoughts spared for the operatives after me and that is my biggest error.

You should always take into account your surroundings. As I reach half way up the ladder, shots ring against the metal frame the ladder is encased in and bullets embed themselves in the brick work. I stop for a fraction of a second, make my decision (slightly suicidal decision should I say) and half scramble the rest of the way up the ladder.

When I reach the top I search for Russell's 'copter and I see it hovering about 50 metres away from me, shooting at an unseen- from my viewpoint- object which is obscured by a small forest of trees. Suddenly, it's as if a giant has let out a roar: fast winds sweep across the top of the trees and whip against the helicopter's side and then everything goes wrong.

Huge dents appear in the metal framework of the chopper as booms declare the now obviously inescapable truth: there is no getting away from here for me, Russell is outgunned and outmatched. The comms unit in my ear suddenly crackles to life- I hadn't even realised I had put it in my ear... I guess old habits die hard.

"Max, I'm- SHIT, what the fuck?"

I watch as the plane starts spiralling in the air.

"Russell, listen, you have to leave right now. Do you understand?" I say very, very calmly.

I wait for his reply. "Dude, shut the fuck up. Can you get to the- DUDE SHOOT THE FUCKERS!" He shouts.

"Who's with you?" I ask, knowing full well who it might be.

"Jay, duh, who else. Okay, I'm gonna try to come over there and get you." He announces.

I sigh, "Dude, what is the possibility that you can get the chopper here, get me and get all three of us out of here?"

"Well", he retorts, "only about... 100%"

"I mean alive." I state.

Silence. "Oh", he replies, "that's marginally lower".

"Me and you both know that Jay is Sabina's life, she is pregnant with his child and she will die if she loses him." My voice breaks. Dangerous waters. "Sabina is like a little sister to me and whoever is responsible for her death will feel pain beyond measure", my voice has become deadly quiet, I am serious, "you will leave here and get Jay back to her. And you will keep yourself safe."

I can feel him deliberating and finally I hear him shout something at Jay. Russell has made the right decision and a smile plays across my face as the helicopter rises, straightens and then zooms into the distance. I can tell he's angry with me. No man left behind. He didn't even reply. I sigh. That's a problem for another day.

Well that avenue's closed. The question still remains: how the flippin' hell do I get out of here?

I hear footsteps behind me and realise I am standing on the edge of the roof, staring in the direction the 'copter disappeared. I whirl around and five metres away stands an emotionless man in a grey suit. Uh oh. Behind him stand the two agents from before- a Chinese lady who looks almost bored but stares at me and the guy who I kicked. He doesn't look happy and if the glare he's giving me is anything to go by, he's not going to hold back if I give him any reason to attack.

The man in front takes a step forward towards me and on almost of a reflex, I take a step back. And nearly fall of the fucking roof. The two agents who chased me have slight smirks on their faces but the man in front looks, I dunno... concerned. I survey the area even though I already have the whole roof plan in my head, the roof is 100 metres long, with chimneys and walls of stacked bricks which would provide the perfect cover. There is a lake on the far side of the roof. 100 metres away. I could dive in. Plans are already formulating in my head as the man in front- seemingly the one in charge- speaks.

He speaks slowly, his voice full of serenity and tranquillity, "we are not here to hurt you Callum." My head whips towards him. Nobody, _nobody _knows that name. He nods his head at me, my reaction has not gone unnoticed. "My name is Agent Coulson and these are Agents May and Ward." I stare at them all in turn, warily. "We are with SHIELD, and we would just like to -". My mind was made up when he uttered the name of that organisation and my feet slap against the concrete as I bolt across the roof. A sharp pain suddenly registers with me as my left arm is shot. No blood. That's strange. I look back and see all three striding towards me confidently.

Okay, let's give these motherfuckers something to piss themselves on. I reach the end of the roof and stare down, shocked. Fuck! The lake is still there, no doubt about it, but metal rods are strategically placed around the lake, creating an electronic surge through the waters.

Basically, that ways is a no go, unless I want to die.

Dangerously depressing memories make their way to the surface of my mind and It's like I'me reliving the horrors. So what if I jump? Who's going to miss me? I was dead a long time ago anyway. At least I'll be with her... As I begin to take the final step into oblivion, Coulson speaks, " Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem", I snort, didn't realise we had the Buddha amongst us. "You're young, you're life is full of possibilities. We can help you but you have to let us"

I'm lost in thought now. Her face. Her eyes. The blood. It's all flooding back now, all the memories I suppressed, locked away to keep me sane have broken free and it hurts. The anguish reaches my heart and it feels like a bomb is going off in my chest. Coulson sees my eyes and panics.

"It doesn't have to end like this", he implores.

"We've been invisible all our life so what's the point now?" I mutter, just quiet enough for me and only me to hear.

"What?" he asks, confused, eyes darting to my arm.

I remember the bloodless pain and look down at my left sleeve. There's a syringe poking out. Oh crap. My knees feel weak and have for a few minutes but I was too stubborn to acknowledge it. My head fogs and I struggle to stay upright. Seeing me fight against consciousness, the tall one- _Agent_ Ward walks towards me.

"No!" I gasp, taking a step closer to the edge.

Coulson puts his hands up and looks me in the eye. "It's okay son, you're safe here, we won't hurt you I promise but you have to get away from there."

I'm still staring into his blue eyes when I crumple, my legs unable to support me any longer. I would have hit the floor if it wasn't for Coulson who is suddenly at my side, holding me in his arms as I lose my battle against the darkness.

I close my eyes...


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Much More Aware (****Linkin** **Park: Numb)**

_I'm tired of being what you want me to be/ Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface. I've become so__numb,__I can't feel you there/ Become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this, all I want to do is be more like me and less like you._

Disjointed voices reach me. Half snippets of conversations. Trying to open my eyes and failing, I realise it's more in my favour to lay low and hear how much they know before acting. I lay there, breathing evenly.

"Doctor- how- possible?"

"Agent- scarred tissue- should- died."

So it's me they're talking about. Well, they must have seen my body by now. In a vain attempt to stop my mind from wading in an ocean of nightmares that was my life, I concentrate on the here and now, no need to go back to that day, the day everything changed. I listen to their voices but there is no more conversation now, just the irritating beeping of a machine. Wait, is that my heartbeat? I feel weird, almost vulnerable. Tapping sounds reach my eardrums, like someone's typing on a keyboard... Okay, nice to know they're updating facebook while supposedly 'looking' after me. The sound reaches me clearly though, as if the drug induced fog has slipped from my mind, leaving me perfectly capable of incapable things. Then I hear them.

"His torso is laced with scars, with 80 to 90 percent of scar tissue covering his whole body. Surprisingly, his face is the least scarred. I mean- you know, if someone would want to torture you, they wouldn't exactly lay off your face would they? Unless urm... unless he was maybe urm sort of..." Wow, a doctor's prognosis, really?

"You mean to say unless he's a prostitute?" A new voice. What the fuck?

The new voice carries on, it must be the 'Agent' guy, "I don't think so, a sex slave doesn't have that much combat training or know how to get past May and Ward before they can blink. I think there's more to it than that. Not to mention the fact that Director Fury's shown an interest in him."

"Hmmm" The first voice replies, lost in thought. Then it happens- a hand is laid on my (very toned, if I do say so myself) stomach and a finger snakes across my scars. Dread sets in my bones and a shiver worms its way down my spine. Fear pools in my stomach, making me want to retch. But I keep it in. I won't let anybody have that sort of power over me, not again, not after...

A calloused finger touches the five parallel scars on the front of my right shoulder. My mind flashes back.

_6 years old. Blood dripped down my face as I pulled against the rope that knotted my hands together behind me. Sobbing and begging.__Anything to stop the pain.__Feeling desperation, starvation and pain for the first time in my life.__My childhood innocence stripped._

_They wanted to teach me respect.__Respect and obedience.__They said they had my best interests at__heart, that__they cared about me.__Cruel to be kind- literally.__According to them, it was my__fault,__I shouldn't have resisted the transition. If I had just listened to them, then the pain would have stopped. But then I would be a monster. Become a willing candidate or be tortured._

_He stood there and looked at me with sad blue eyes, a small smile playing on his face, as if he thought I was going through a rebel stage and he would do his best to help me open my eyes. A bit like a doctor telling someone they had cancer to which he held the cure. My head was in the noose, and I said the only thing I could think of to get it out._

"_Please" I__whimpered,__my throat hoarse from lack of water and terror._

_He sighed, walked towards me, then behind. I began shaking violently when he was out of my line of sight, remembering the last time somebody had stood there and the way my body still ached days afterwards. Because I had screamed, they didn't give me any water as water was only for 'big boys'._

_He saw all this and more, taking it all in with a sigh and a click of his tongue. Suddenly, my hands were free and I whirled around in time to see the bonds fall to the floor.__Strong hands were placed on my shoulder, forcefully turning me around so I couldn't see him behind me; not hard enough to leave a bruise but hard enough so that it was very uncomfortable._

"_Callum, you need to listen to me." He shakes me then, roughly, "Are you listening?"_

_I nod my head but when he growls irritably, I rush to squeak out a reply. "Yes, sir" my voice is weak._

_I can hear the smirk in his voice, "So, Jeff's little lesson did teach you some manners". I sob once, thinking about him and his 'toys', but hold the tears in, careful not to let another sound slip from my mouth. Making noise equals punishment._

"_You seem to have this misconceived idea that your parents are looking for you. They aren't. You have no sister, no father or mother. You are an orphan and a ward of Hydra. Had we not extended our hand of compassion to you, you would have died"._

_He looks at me, expecting an answer but I screw my face up and think. I didn't understand half of the things he said, he'd used big words. But I should just agree with everything he says, that's what Mr. Morgan told me, he said otherwise he would visit me again in the night for more 'lessons' on my manners. I am about to open my mouth and say something when his hands leave my shoulder which now feel cold due to the sudden exposure to the freezing room temperature, as opposed to his toasty hands._

_He walked in front of me, and I paled, thinking of all the ways he or Mr. Morgan can hurt me. He looks at me, studying my face silently and I squirm under his scrutinising stare. My eyes widen with panic as he takes out a flick knife from his pocket while still observing me. He crouches down so his face is level with mine__and I automatically look at my lap, horror apparent in my features. With the knife in his left hand, he uses his right thumb to lift my chin up so I have no choice but to look him in the face. I swallow._

_He lifts his left hand and places the blade of the knife flat down on my cheekbone. I am a statue, too scared to tremble; too aware one small twitch can slice my face open. After a long minute of surveying my reaction he blinks and puts the knife on the floor._

"_All you need to do is say yes. The pain will stop then." He says it with a fatherly tone, trying to persuade me of his sincerity._

_I shake my head, "I can't", I groan, half with pain and half with dread._

_He looms over me and places a hand on my shoulder. Then he punches the right side of my face.__Hard.__My body jerks to the side and I yell out but the hand on my shoulder roughly yanks my body back into its original position. This time he punches the left side. It carries on until I am near unconsciousness. He grabs my shoulders and rattles my body hard._

"_WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?" He screams._

_I refuse to answer, staring at him silently. He slaps my face._

"_WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?" He screams again._

"_ANSWER ME GODDAMMIT, WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?"_

_I breathe out, tired with the world, and inherit a world unsuitable for, well... anyone._

"_Hydra" I whisper._

The machine monitoring my heartbeat picks up. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP. Crap. No need for manners then.

My eyes snap open, fighting through the heaviness my lids insist on- an aftermath of the sedative they injected me with- and flip off my back. I was lying on a white hospital bed- with no bloody cuffs, how stupid of them!

I stare around me and take in my surroundings: there's a cautious looking man wearing glasses and apparently reading something on a screen before I so rudely interrupted him. I smirk inwardly. Shock is written on his face, his mouth gapes open- I have to physically restrain myself from making a sarcastic comment. He's wearing a white lab coat; presumably, he's the 'doctor'. Hidden in the shadows which hug the corners of the wall stands a stockier man. He looks poised but at peace, as if he knows he can take me down if I become a threat AND still have time to... I dunno, do whatever the hell weird 'agent guys' do in their spare time.

I study him for a couple of seconds- neither of us move, I have a feeling he's taking the time to study me too- and debate whether or not I can take him down without getting hurt in the process. He pushes himself off the wall and puts his hands up, opening his mouth to say something when-

"How the- It's not possible!" The doctors having a little bitch fit. Both the agent and I break off our staring match and stare at him.

I'm actually beginning to worry about his health; his face is red and going redder by the second... "Urm- Are you okay?" I ask, concerned.

The reactions I receive are hilarious. The agent dude stands there shocked, for once looking unsure- I guess he didn't expect those to be my first words and the doctor? Well, he started screaming...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: This World Can Beat You Down (Nine Inch Nails: I Do Not Want This)**

_I'm losing ground/ You know how this world can beat you down/ I'm made of clay. I fear I'm the only one who thinks this way/ I'm always falling down the same hill/ Bamboo puncturing this skin/ And nothing comes bleeding out of me just like a waterfall I'm drowning in/ Two feet below the surface I can still make out your wavy face/ And if I could just reach you maybe I could leave this place._

I smirk a little, trying to hide my amusement at the irony- a secret organisation full of professionals (or so they like to claim) who love to wear dark suits and shades have hired an- obviously- unprofessional to do a professional's job (A mouthful I know).

The mystery man in the corner crosses his arms over his chest as he looks on incredulously at the doctor. I start inching my way towards the only door that I can see- it's on my right. I move ever so slowly, trying not to attract his attention. As my hand wraps around the handle, I hear a slight crackling noise before an authoritative voice fills the room, "Barton!"

I look up as the agent (I'm assuming) looks up sharply at me. Fuck. Yanking the door open without a second thought, I dash into a deserted hallway. While sprinting down a second corridor at the end of the hallway, I chance a glance behind me and stop dead. There's no one behind me. What the hell? I heard him running after me only a few seconds before.

Dread starts to set in me as I try to come up with a viable explanation for his sudden disappearance while I walk towards a door to my left. I can't think of anything. Fuck it, the building ate him. I grin a little as I put my ear to the door. Hearing nothing I open it quietly. Rows of empty toilet cubicles grace me with their presence.

Now that I think about it, I do need to take a leak. Hopefully, my captors will look for their dangerously sexy and amazing prisoner by the front doors... Or at least closer to the exit. So I should be safe. If I'm lucky.

Noticing that the cubicle at the end, furthest from the door has an air vent above it, I walk over to it, judging it to be my best option- it's far away from the door to allow for a swift escape if the need arises and the air vents will definitely lead out somewhere. I go into the small space and meet my companions: An old, scratched, silver toilet with the lid up and a matching, stunningly stained sink. I bet the big shots don't use these toilets, they don't look like they have been given attention since they were installed.

After locking the door and making sure that the toilet lid is down, I take a quick leak before cleaning myself up at the sink. There's no soap. I scowl at my hands and decide on scrubbing them with hot water. Three times. Each hand. The right first and then the left.

Once I'm satisfied that my hands are clean, I switch off the water and wipe my hands on my clothes. Now they are probably dirty again. Great. Fucking great. Knowing that if I go down that road I will never stop cleaning my hands, I try to convince myself that my shirt is in fact a highly sterile bacterial cloth. Doesn't work. Oh well.

I place my head on the cubicle door and groan quietly, 'What am I supposed to do now?' I whisper to myself. Squeezing my eyes shut doesn't help the headache I can feel coming as the back of my head starts to throb.

The throbbing starts to get worse as I hear a slight thud behind me. Before I can turn around, someone wrenches my left arm behind my back, pushing me towards the door, while their free hand snakes around my neck, squeezing hard. I'm effectively pinned to the door. Shit. My body tenses of its own accord- testing his reaction is as natural as breathing to me. All he does in return is pull me back slightly and slam me into the door. Hard. I stop fighting, trying to think of how the guy managed to get in without me noticing and who the fuck he is.

Trying to turn my head proves futile. I feel his breath on my cheek as he leans in, speaking calmly and authoritatively, 'Calm down and don't fight, you're outclassed kid'. I can hear the grin in his voice. Smug bastard.

'How-' I start to ask but he cuts me off. 'Don't talk'. I hear him speak to whoever's in charge (I'm assuming seeing as I can't see behind me, otherwise he's a crazy person talking to thin air), 'I've got the kid. Yeah, I know. No, same floor. Okay Director. Up to you guys? Alright. No I'm fine'.

I clench my jaw when I hear him talk. Shit. What have I got myself into? Deciding to play the innocent, scared kid I relax my body, surprising him.

'What the hell are you trying now kid?' He speaks more to himself, musing amusedly.

'Look, wh-where am I?' I start to say, purposefully stuttering as I try to sound desperate, 'And who are you? I- I was coming back from school and-'

He snorts, annoyed a little as he keeps me pinned. 'Don't play me for a fool kid, the Red Room taught you better'.

I freeze. My eyes widen as I take a shaky breath. Gulping slightly, I try to reign in my feelings. Three seconds later, I'm calm as I speak, 'I have no idea of what you're talking about'.

He stays silent for a while before he turns me around so my back is resting against the cubicle door and I'm facing him. It's the same agent from the room I woke up in- Barton. With his hands firmly on my shoulders he gives me a look, warning me not to try anything. Not like I will anyway, I'm not stupid- attacking someone while they have the upper hand in a highly enclosed space isn't the cleverest of things to do.

"Look kid, I don't know what they've done to you but we can help you", Barton says, his voice screaming sincerity.

My head is still facing him but I shift my line of sight to my right, my glare stony as I keep my eyes on the sink.

He carries on, sounding almost desperate, "Come on, you can't be older than 16, 17 at the most".

I look at him, my gaze still cold, "We?" I question.

He nods, trying to contain his relief at me responding, "Yeah, SHIELD. We can fix whatever-"

Rolling my eyes, I cut him off by scoffing, "SHIELD can't do shit for anyone".

He sighs, "I'm going to let go of you okay?" He waits for me to nod, "Don't think of running or fighting because you'll just end up in deeper shit".

I nod again as he releases his hold o my shoulders. With his eyes still on me, he pulls the toilet lid down and sits on it. I stay where I am, standing, as I watch him. I swear to God if he tries anything I'll rip his eyes out.

"You don't sound American, you sound more English" He comments after a long awkward minute of silence. When I don't respond or even acknowledge that he had spoken, he sighs again.

"Have you ever heard of Phil Coulson?" He asks me, his eyes begging me to communicate with him.

After a few seconds, just when his shoulders droop slightly out of disappointment, I answer him curtly

"I met him on the rooftop".

He grins a little at me but my face stays emotionless and passive, "It won't be SHIELD helping you, not really. It'd be Coulson and his team, and possibly even me and my team mates".

I open my mouth to speak but he raises one hand, motioning me to stay quiet and hear him out. He carries on, speaking faster as he gets a little excited. "Coulson isn't like the rest, trust me. He only has your best interests at heart. I'm not joking, give him a chance. He's like a dad to me. He won't ever betray your trust and his team is awesome too".

I give him an incredulous look, "Slow the fuck down mate. So you're saying I should get help off a guy I don't even- and who's to say I even need help? There's nothing wrong with me" I finish a little angrily

Pursing his lips, he stares at me intensely. After a few minutes he breaks eye contact with me and tiredly runs his hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

"Please kid, all I'm asking for is one chance. Just trust him once".

Yeah Right. Like that's going to happen. I look at him blankly as he stands up.

"Come on, we have to get you upstairs to the meeting room".

He seems more relaxed around me now so I play on that, by nodding slightly, hoping he mistakes that as compliance. Latching one hand around my forearm, he unlocks the cubicle door and walks out, moving me with him.

"Hey, you're hurting me", I complain, lacing my voice with fake pain so he loosens his grip.

"Sorry kid", he says quickly, concerned as he loosens his grip.

As soon as his grip is loosened I strike. I elbow him in the stomach with the hand he is gripping lightly, making him double over in pain before grabbing his neck and kneeing him in the face. Blood drips everywhere as he hold his broken nose with both hands, groaning slightly. I feel guilty as I hit him again, kicking him in the side of the head with my foot. Hard. I even wince at the sound it makes.

Running my hand over my face, I curse under my breath. I turn around and see him slumped on the floor, seemingly out unconscious. After I search his pockets and find nothing I can use- no gun, knife or anything dangerous apart from an arrowhead (which is a bloody weird thing to keep on your person), I turn around and start to walk out but before I even make it to the door, something heavy tackles me from behind, slamming my entire body into the wall by the door. Barton has me by the waist as he punches me in the stomach, winding me.

"I don't want to fucking hurt you kid", he speaks through clenched teeth.

I bring my knee up, hoping to meet my goal between his legs but he grabs my leg with both his hands, using my body weight against me as he pushes me to the floor.

I land on my back and roll out of the way as he delivers a swift kick to where I was laying previously. As his foot connects with thin air, I tangle both my feet around his ankle and twist, forcing him to lose balance and fall. I grab his head and slam it three times against the tiles floor- knocking him out for good this time.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins as my heart thumps louder and quicker. Fucking great. Remembering how he was contacting someone before, I look over his body more closely. I notice a small, black earpiece in his left ear and take it out. It's a comms unit. Taking one last glance at him and suppressing my guilty conscious, I leave the room as inconspicuously as I can, putting the earpiece in so I can hear whatever's going on.

I walk down a few different corridors, all of which are empty before the earpiece crackle to life, scaring the crap out of me for a second until I remember what it is.

"Barton, report. It's been 15 minutes".

I stay silent. Can I pretend to be him? I muse it over before coming to the conclusion that that would probably have been the most dumbass thing I would have done today and choose against it.

Again, someone speaks. This time it's a female. "Barton, I swear to God, stop trying to, I don't know, connect, or whatever else it is you're trying to do, with him. He's a killer. Plain and simple. He's Red Room through and through. So get his and your ass here now!" She demands.

I grin a little, tapping my fingers lightly against the walls closest to me as I continue walking. Barton sure has a wild chick in his nest.

A male voice speaks up now, "What Natasha means to say, Clint, is that you need to bring him to meet us so that we can all work together with him. Tony and Bruce are in the lab, they left after the first 5 minutes but as soon as you two get here, they'll come as well".

So that's all I am to them huh? A project. Fucking great. Here I was, nearly believing the crap that Barton was selling me. For fucks sake, I'm getting soft.

There's a door close to me. It's high tech and looks important. Let's see where this goes, I think, as I place my hand on the door, looking for a handle. As soon as my hand comes into contact with the door, it slides open and slides back shut after I walk in.

Holy fuck. I freeze as I stare at two men. Both have stopped whatever they were doing and are looking at me.

One of them, the more confident one obviously, walks forward. "Is there something you want?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. I'm in deep shit. I try to stay calm but it's hard as I've noticed a bright blue light shining through his top over his chest area. Tony Stark. I remember the man on the comms saying that 'Tony and Bruce were in the lab'.

I play it cool, smiling at him. "Urm, yes actually" I say, trying to accurately play the part of a lost, newbie. "See, I'm new, I only started last week, and it's really amazing to meet you Tony, I mean Mr Stark".

Both Tony and the quiet man at the end of the room relax and I could swear that Bruce's eyes were green only a second ago but when I looked again, they were back to normal.

Tony smiles at me, "If you're new it's fine. I know how mind-blowing it is to meet me. Maybe when you're on your lunch break we can hang out and I'll even sign something of yours" He offers. The egotistical prick.

I nod enthusiastically, "That would be so amazing Mr Stark, thank you so much".

I take what he said as inspiration and continue, more confident now. "Well, it's actually my lunch break now and I was wondering if one of you could show me the way out, I feel like eating outside headquarters, you know, real food for once" I grin.

My grin drops as Bruce tenses up again, looking at Tony who just starts walking slowly towards me, grinning lazily.

"You know, let's say you were actually a new recruit here, fully uniformed and all", he says mockingly, "and you were the dumbest person alive", he continues, "You would still know that there is no way off the helicarrier once it's in air. Simple logic".

Crap. I look at him wildly, noticing Bruce is talking to someone on a phone. Turning quickly, I sprint out of the lab, running down the hallway I didn't come from. When I feel like I've run far enough and he's stopped following me, I slow down to a brisk walk, trying to seem as if I'm a busy employee and not a crazy, criminal who's escaped. I turn the corner and notice a redhead walking towards me. I hold my breath as she notices me but doesn't acknowledge that she knows who I really am. As she passes past me, she nods curtly at me and I smile slightly. I let out the breath I was holding and continue walking. The next thing I know, something hits the back of my head and everything goes black.


End file.
